St. Kitts- Return to Paradise©

By: Gord Collins

Dreaming of a tropical paradise lately? The protagonist of this short story, Paul Brewster receives a strange invitation to return to the place of his most memorable romance. The setting is the beautiful island paradise of St. Kitts in the Caribbean/West Indies where the present always takes precedence. Will this visit to paradise change his life?

St. Kitts - Return to Paradise Part 1

I was excited to be going back to St. Kitts. It was only a week, but time there was so slow it would stretch to an eternity. The quaint towns were filled with just the right number of laid back local people. The palm mangroves, turquoise water and blue sky and those golden, sandy beaches were always etched into my consciousness. An ever-present sun lit the way for centuries of adventurers and I felt like one of them.

They named it after Christopher Columbus so that made it even more sacred ground for itinerant adventurers like myself. I'd been here so that made me feel special yet uneasy. I stared down at the travel brochures I'd mysteriously received in the mail. The postmark was from the Basseterre post office. My mind faded to a daydream...

Eternal flames.

All these years, my life's been too predictable. I thought the spontaneity and romance would come along, but it never did like that again. So this wasn't a trip to a tropical paradise really, it was a return to my youth and a journey to what human beings really need, to be human.

Small fluffy clouds stretched out below like a carpet rolled out to welcome northerners to a glorious heaven. Each cloud passed like a runway marker down to the grand experience. Well, it had to be a grand experience. Isn't that what these places should be?

I remember her running on the beach, her long hair flowing in the gentle sea wind. Our footprints were alone and lasting, as a crashing surf played continuous crescendos to her steps and mine in pursuit. Rolling in the sand and cascading water, we had what everyone else wanted. Her smile told me everything was real, not a dream. It seemed like yesterday when we..."

"Is'ish yor' first tyme to St. Kitts?" A male voice with a Texan accent interrupted the scene.
"Ah… what." I said, as the warm myst faded to the close cabin of the jet. My eyes struggled to focus.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were resting." It was a young man about the same age I was all those years ago.
"No, that's okay, I was just lost in thought." I had to shake hard to get through the cobwebs of the dream. "No, I've been there before, a long time ago." I said.
"No kiddin, well I think I was there too, but I was just taking my first swimmin' lesson if you know what I mean." He said chuckling at his humor.
"I take it your parents aren't with you this time."
"Ha, ha, no, fraid they're all tuckered out." He said.
"Well, I guess you understand the origins and destiny of the universe then." I struggled with my middle-aged remark and then squirmed to try and get away from it.
"Ya, I grew up on a ranch and I've seen some primitive stuff I'll tell ya." He confessed.
"Well now, that's too bad about your lost innocence mister." I played up a Texan accent to keep the mood light and sociable.
"Hell, I ain't lost it all, I still got some left for the judge when it's necessary." He said pushing back into the seat.

I wondered what situation might have made him get in trouble with the law. His open honesty and well-kempt appearance made it unlikely he would meet up with the law.
"So what are you doing on this flight, sewing some wild oats?" I said.
"Ah, us Texans aren't so wild. Especially those from Dallas." He said.
"Dallas. I remember the TV show and I actually had the whole afternoon to go up to South Fork Ranch. That really took me back a ways."
"Ya, the tourists still really like that place. Did you stop in at Miss Ellie's diner?" he asked.
"Actually, yeah, I went in and had a beer."
"Well, that's my dad that served ya." He said so proudly.
"You're kidding me." I said astonished.
"Nope, he's lived in Parker his whole life. He was a state champion bull rider in the early 80's. That all ended when a bull named Rambo tossed him good." He lamented.
"Rambo, well that doesn't sound promising from the start." I sympathized.
He pondered slightly thinking of his father. "No, it set him back a might, but I picked it up on the rodeo circuit and we've had a good life since 95." He said.
"Like father like son. Is it what you wanted?" I asked stupidly without regard for his feelings.
"Ya, well, what is there for a boy from Parker, Texas anyway?" He said with no resentment.
"You don't look like a country guy really. I thought you might be businessman getting some leisure time in. That rodeo stuff though, is the most incredible thing I've seen and that has to be the kind of life that makes you feel alive." I said.
"Ya, it's a might physical, but I want to do something a little more suffisticated. It's not easy livin' out on a ranch."
"From what I saw, Dallas, Texas is no hick town, so it must be some of the best life you can have" I reassured.
"Well thanks mister. We'all like Dallas too. My name's Jake Brandon." he said jutting his big calloused hand out to me.
"I'm Paul, Paul Brewster." I said sticking out my hand but not with the same force and exuberance.
"Glad to meetcha ya Paul". He smiled with genuine appreciation that his trip was starting off on a good note.
The flight attendant asked if we'd like a drink. Jake asked for something but my mind my mind was out the window.

Jake saw that I wasn't quite in a social mood and stayed focused on his own rendezvous with fate. He could have been on his way to meet his sweetheart who lived on the west side of Parker. Okay, maybe he's got his own story unfolding.

Air turbulence finally woke me from my vision and we began to slide downward to a small plot of land, emerald in the distance set in a sapphire sea. The glowing orange red sun burned to the west sending a shimmering path of copper gold light upward. The edge of the planet and I was never so glad the big ball of fire was lighting the way to my destination.

Eternal flames, burning like fire.

We broke the few clouds to see several emerald color volcanos jutting from a dark turquoise ocean. No lava spewing though, in fact they seemed covered in vegetation. The lights of Basseterre shone up from the plains of Zante. There were those that called this place the jewel of the West with features that made it look like the Gibraltar of the West Indies. Bold projections from the Earth's crust struggling to keep their head above water. I hardly noticed them last time, but their struggles were a platform, a beautiful playground that made the best times of my life. Ancient forces lay dormant so visitors could find themselves anew and relax in soft sand and warm winds with a tropical drink in hand. Nature would took care of everything here.

The sun had set, yet the steel blue sky above hung like a curtain to escort later arrivals to their temporary shelters. I shook hands with Jake again and promised we'd get together for a beer at one of the local watering holes. Jake was a decent guy whom the gods would surely smile upon.

At the arrivals area, I had my luggage and stood outside the airport like something was supposed to happen. Sure enough a black gentlemen, a taxi driver, yelled over at me.
"Are you going to the Frigate Bay area?"
"Ya, are you going there." I said.
"That's right. I'm de Frigate Bay express," He said like it was midday. "Which hotel would you be stayin at?" He added.
"Frigate Bay Resort." I said leaning forward.
"Oh ya, would that be the romance package with Allegro?" he chuckled.
"Romance package, no I'm sorry I missed out on that one. Is it recommended?" I said.
"I'm just foolin' wid' ya. I've just felt good today you know. Don't ask me why, It just happens. I'm not a superstitious man but I can feel sometin', sometin' I get from de' tourists I spose. There must be sometin' goin' on." He said looking bewildered at me like I could solve his enigma.

We talked more on the way and he gave me some quick insight into the life of St. Kitts in the last 16 years. I couldn't help but think I'd seen him last time I was here. He was old enough and said he'd lived his life in St. Kitts and made his living as a taxi driver. He had eight kids.
We arrived in Frigate Bay. I said thanks, gave him a good tip and asked him his name. He just said "Solomon."

In the morning, an intense band of light burned across the room from between the dark curtains. I spread them to an incredible scene of green palms, blue sky, golden white sands and tacky colored umbrellas that stung my eyes. That beach, it was our beach. That's right, it was here.

She ran up to the wooden chaise lounge and wrapped the red towel around her inviting me to join her. That towel was our cocoon, protecting us from some outside threat and warming the cool evening winds. I always thought red was an impulsive color that warned of foolish behavior and on that day, I didn't mind. I brushed the sand from her face and shoulders. We kissed with such abandon, such reckless youth...

I walked the beach that day again and again, but nothing was there. It wasn't the same. Strange tourists roamed about our playground, jet ski boats whined offshore while kids screamed at inflated sharks and monster waves. Why did I come back here?

The hotel room offered refuge so I stayed there all day. What the hell was I doing here so far from home? Chasing the foolish dreams of youth. No more ruining my holiday, I'd get it out of my mind and get into some fun tomorrow. The lobby had a handful of brochures so I clutched a few and brought them back to the room with a nice cold drink. There are a surprising number of activities to choose from in St. Kitts. Hiking, scuba diving, sail boarding, golf, tennis and more, but para sailing looked like it might just be the ticket.

The lessons began at 10:00 a.m. and it looked like a great time. After the crew chief, a woman named Maria gave us the low down on what not to do, I got first dibs on being the first guy into the sky. I couldn't believe I was finally going to get to fly.

The jet boat took off fast and after an awkward takeoff, I was flying high above the narrow beach in the company of sea gulls. A little turn of the hands let me sweep back and forth and then by pulling down on the ropes, I took a fast dive downward not far from some of the palms. This was fun going back and forth along the beach and wasn't that difficult at all. I was swooping like a hawk. Some of the people down on the beach even starting waving vigorously at me and I waved back. Hey, everybody be wavin' today.

With the wind swooshing through the parachute so easily, there was a chance to just look at all those people down there having a good time, relaxing and enjoying their time in the sun and sand. Hovering paradise. Incredible. I was getting tired after a few runs though and my time was up. The boat slowed gradually and I maneuvered downward surprisingly well and a fast, two-point landing would be sure to bring the crowd to their feet. A gust of wind blew up from behind though and I flew past the chute at first running and then sailing headfirst like I was stealing third. The wet beach sand greeted my face and stomach hard.

"Are you okay?" The crew chief asked.
My arms and face stung like I'd just been washed with sand paper. There was some blood but I didn't care. Sure, there was some wise guys laughing at my slingshot finale, but I laughed it off myself. I was awarded a drink of water to cool the pain and then directed to the special chaise lounge on the beach, which I stumbled over to and collapsed on. That brought on some more murmurs and gasping and the sounds of people running. Probably paramedics, because they don't want a scene that'll end up in the papers. Can't a guy just have some fun? A man leaned over.
"Paul, are you alright?" It was a familiar voice.
"Ya, oh, hey Jake how're you doing?" I said squinting against the bright sun.
"Never mind about me partner, I saw that face plant and I can't believe you got up. I'll tell ya, I suffered less at the Calgary Stampede and stayed down for the count. You got bull ridin' potential boy." He said with loud admiration for standers by' benefit.
"Oh ya, giddya up there Rambo. Do cowboys bleed this much." I said pushing up a red towel at him.
"Only on the bad rides." He laughed. "Plug that wound and I'll see you at the casino bar at seven over at Jack Tar Village. I'm gonna practice my old man's blackjack strategy tonight."
"Okay, I'll be there if I'm still conscious." I said. I threw the dry red towel back on the chair and went to get cleaned up."

There was a whole afternoon ahead so going to downtown Basseterre sounded like some fun. It was warm that's for sure, about 90 degrees but that breeze was like a natural air conditioner. Locals offered directions to the circus, a duty free mall where I picked up some nic nacs with a nautical theme. There were a lot of locals liming about many wearing strange combinations of clothing. A stream of traffic was also strolling in from the cruise ship at the end of Port Zante so the place was getting a little crowded. I decided to head down Fort street to the museum to see a little of the culture they managed to capture. The Caribbean accent on color was interesting and there were numerous 18th century Georgian style buildings and gingerbread houses dotted about. I could see the big fort up in the distance, so what the heck, it probably has a good view of the island.

A couple of green velvet monkeys were watching me from the trees but they didn't seem inclined to move at all. Deep inside a scruffy patch of bamboo grass, a purple-throated humming bird buzzed an unusually large red flower and Mount Liamuiga the old dormant volcano, loomed in the distance. I wish I could paint because the color and wildlife was something Robert Bateman would have paid for.

Main Road was long and I was going to walk the whole way until a fellow driving by offered a lift. He was headed to the Brimstone Hill Fortress too. We walked about the refurbished fortress viewing the remains of battles of Frenchman and Englishman from centuries passed. The guide there spoke of lengthy battles with frigate ships offshore and almost a century of repairing before the big battle of 1782. A rich history that included marauding pirates and slavery and an extravagance enjoyed by the very wealthy in Nevis, the other island, in the late 19th century. High up on the fort walls, there were some great views of neighboring Nevis, St. Martins, Antigua. Walking the whole way back was just the exercise I needed, but what a relief it was to get out of the blazing afternoon sun.

The cool, evening Caribbean breeze sweeping the open-air restaurant at the resort made everyone's meal that much better. I had a very palatable blue marlin dinner finished with a taste known only to St Kittitians, and I tipped the waitress generously for a fine meal. A face flashed out of the corner of my eye but when I looked there was just a bunch of people milling about. Maybe that landing rattled me after all. Better go light on the alcohol tonight.

Eternal flames burning like fire, come to me, can't you feel my desire.

The casino bar at the Jack Tar Village was full, unusual for a casino bar. A few people danced to the beat of fast calypso music. The tropical heat was still intense so you should stay hydrated, at least that's what the sign above the bar said. I could see Jake playing at the blackjack tables and he was laughing so he must be getting an edge on the house. If not, he must have found some women to take note of.
"Paul, come on in and get in on the next game here." He shot out amid a row of smiling faces.
"Okay." I gave the dealer a twenty. It was a five-dollar table thankfully.
"Hey, everybody, this is the bronc rider I told you about." He said to the others. "Paul, this is Samantha, Samuel and Juanita." They all said hi while examining my facial wounds.

The dealer quietly awaited our bets. Everyone was conservative with $10 bets to make the evening last. Jake decided to split his tens and I decided I'd wisely stand on an eight and a king. The others had hands pretty close to 21 so they must have been pretty content.

Dealer busted and I won. What a wonderful game. Too bad there wasn't a progressive jackpot. Jake wasn't having much luck with his old man's system, but he kept on trying. Despite an interested look from Juanita, I decided to get up and walk around, see the rest of the casino and the people here.

There were voices from around the globe all together like a family gathering of sorts. The casino was nicely furnished and put a lot of the casinos in the US to shame. The Baccarat table looked like the place to be so I joined in. James Bond territory, but the minimum was low. I wondered about people who play a game no one else knows about. A pretty woman sat down beside me, well dressed and reasonably sure of some sort of positive outcome.

Her dress sure made a quick impression. It was an elegant beige, brown satiny see through that wrapped her beautiful figure all too closely. Her face was the last thing I saw.

"Hello"
"…Hello" It was her. My mind went blank but I managed to blurt out "How have you been." Her eyes still sparkled yet they now had a knowing calmness and sincerity I could understand. "Okay. I can't believe you're here. Are you living here?"
"Yes, I came back and have lived in Basseterre for years. I like the weather and atmosphere and it's a nice gentle place." She avoided my eyes now. "Are you visiting?"
"Ya, I'm here for a week and it's especially nice to see you again." I said with a desperate casualness.
"It's nice to see you too." She said.
"Do you play Baccarat?" I wondered about her involvement in an expensive casino game.
"Yes, it's an elegant game and the rules are straightforward and I don't have to think too hard. I can have fun and enjoy the moment."
I looked back to the table, remembering those types of moments. "Would you like to go out for some fresh air." I said awkwardly.
"Yes, that would be lovely."
Twinkling lights shone up off the water from boats on the bay and the stars of the dark night sky filled the view as we walked outside the building. She was as attractive as ever and her walk was natural and unaffected.
"It's been so long."
"Yes, and you're as lovely as you were then." She walked away down the veranda. I think I pushed too far and tried to bring the situation back into balance. "I'm sorry, it's just nice to see you after all these years." Those last three words were a lousy choice.
There were tears in her eyes. "It was a wonderful time we had then. If I'd only known how good it was. I think I would have tried to get in touch with you. I actually tried, but I couldn't find you."
"Well, I'm sorry you didn't because I've always wondered. I thought it was just a fling and that you wanted to get on with your life."
"You were right, I did. I'm sorry for the melodrama, I guess life on this little island isn't as grand as where you live."
I laughed, "Grand. Well, they try to tell us it is, but it leaves a lot to desire."
"What sort of work do you do?" She asked to break the stream.
"I'm in marketing. I sell the latest video game consoles to distributors across the US, so they can give them to teenagers to act out horrible, violent scenes…And then I go home."
"Video games. Isn't there something redeeming about them."
"Yes, there is good software programs available complete with pleasant outcomes, but not top sellers. Who knows where it's all going. Maybe we'll all take virtual trips to everywhere instead of travelling."
She tilted her head, "That would be a shame. Would you like to come over to my place? I don't live far from here"
"Sure, that'd be nice."

It was a short walk of ten minutes till we arrived at this dirt road that lead up a hill. A dog barked behind a rickety, leaning fence lined with scruffy bushes. The road was pitted so you had to be careful of your footing. Her bungalow was the fourth up. It was warm inside, but the room was warm with life too when she turned the light on. Numerous paintings with deep, bright pastel hues hung on the wall and sat on the floor leaning against the wall. Some of them had portraits and beautiful beach scenes done in watercolor. I strode over to one of the oil paintings, of a particularly beautiful beach scene with a couple in a passionate embrace. "Did you paint all these pictures?"
"Yes, I sell them to the tourists in my shop downtown. I've never been able to part with a few of them though." She was busy in the kitchen.

Over on the wall shelf, a magnificent piece of wood sculpture sat. It was of a professionally finished, deep reddish mahogany fashioned into a detailed and expressive figure of two lovers embracing, then melting upward into flames. An exquisite piece of art that would catch all visitor's attention. At the base, a golden, embossed plate read,

Eternal flames, burning like fire, come to me, can't you feel my desire
The silence of eternity holds me till the sun and waves return to our shore
Let time bring us together and the Sun light our love forever more

I turned to the Conk shell beside it.
"Hey, I think I recognize this." I said trying to steady my hands.
"Do you remember when we found that?"
"Yes, it was almost like it crawled up out of the water to meet us. Like the sea god sent it to us express." I smiled at her.
She came closer. "Yes, Zeus must have known something."
I put the shell back on the shelf and turned to run my fingers through her hair and we kissed just as we did all those years ago. Senses came alive that evening and eternity was truly still.

The early morning light blazed through the curtains again and woke me. I reached over to the other side of the bed but she wasn't there. There was a note on the dresser that said, Do you remember the Beach?

I cleaned up a bit, put my stuff on and headed down to that beach, the site of my biggest highs and lows on this island. Cool, clean ocean winds drifted up off of Frigate Bay carrying the taste of salty ocean air and the scent of Jasmine. The birds were the only thing moving, absorbed with their feeding amid the morning dew. She stood alone on the beach waiting. Before I could embrace her, she ran down the shoreline and I wasn't sure I could catch her this time. I did though and we had a great time rolling in the surf.

We met Jake downtown and he commented that if I could rustle her up, I might just really be a cowboy. We had dinner one evening with Jake and his new female friend and we enjoyed some genuine tall stories from Texas, which entertained us both. It was a great.

I was feeling pretty emotional at the airport on that unnerving final day, but I felt as good as I ever had in my entire life. The plane moved slowly, taxiing down toward the runway. Jake leaned out the small window and we both waved goodbye to him.

I'll never forget that guy. He invited us to visit Dallas some day and we will go. But not for a while, I'm too comfortable right now in St. Kitts to be travelling anywhere. I was heading down to the beach with Sara to go para sailing, this time with a helmet on.

Used by Permission.** Copyright© 2001 by Gord Collins